


sweet enough to eat

by RinAngel



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic Disputes, Domestic Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, dysfunctional couple, stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26208076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinAngel
Summary: Jisung destroys and then repairs the most important relationship in his life, all within the course of a day.Written for our Discord server's playlist challenge! Inspirations:"Ice Cream Cake" by Red Velvet (vanilla, chocolate, honey, with a cherry on top!)"We Like" by Pristin (I might be too much but who cares?)"Humph!" by Pentagon (You can't come closer until you apologize!)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	sweet enough to eat

_ “It’s not just about apologizing, Jisung. An apology means nothing to me when I know you’re never going to change.” _

Arguments were inevitable in every relationship. Jisung knew that, but it never made them any easier— because when arguments became more frequent, more vicious as time went on, didn’t that have to mean that the end was coming? He tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change, but really, thinking about going home and picking up right where they left off left him sweating.

They’d built this perfect life together, against all the odds: an apartment of their own, run-down but cozy, where they could exist without shame, without the condescending eyes of their parents. They even had a kitten that curled up between them every night for warmth; cockblocking them, but also reminding them that they weren’t just two people, two boyfriends, but  _ one family. _

Jisung didn’t know if he could ever go back to how things were before. He really wasn’t sure he’d be whole without it.

The apartment felt void of energy when he walked in the door. It was six o’clock, and often Minho was in the kitchen at this point, cooking a nice meal for the two of them— but that day the kitchen was dark, and the only evidence that it had been used was the dirty pot soaking in the sink from whatever Minho had eaten by himself. Didn’t matter, Jisung’s stomach was twisting anyway. He couldn’t think food, he could only think of the eyes that had watched him on his way out the door that morning, cold and hard and angry.

_ “Minho, I’m so sorry that I hurt you.” _

_ “If you’re really sorry, then maybe you should find a way to prove that to me, Han Jisung. Because right now, you’re nothing but talk. And talk without anything behind it is as good as lying, in my books.” _

Jisung sighed. Tried to square his shoulders, tried to walk confidently to the bedroom door, but his hands were shaking a little as he turned the knob. Minho lay on his stomach across the bed, expression passive and attention fully stuck on the Switch in his hands. Beside him was the empty bowl from his meal (Jisung bitched about Minho eating in their bed every once in awhile, but this time he let it slide), and on the nightside table was a half-drank beer. Minho wasn’t much of a drinker, unless he was upset, unless it was that once-in-a-blue-moon where he and Jisung would fight.

“Hey,” Jisung spoke up softly, managing a smile. “How was your day? I missed you.”

“Well, I mean, you could have called me on your break. I’ve been home all day,” Minho answered rather flatly, grabbing his beer and taking another swig. “But once again, fuck  _ my  _ feelings, right?”

“I figured you didn’t want to talk.”

“I  _ don’t,  _ really, but you keep talking to me, so.”

Jisung groaned. That was the thing with Minho in these fights, he was so hard to crack. He was capable of sulking for  _ days, _ waiting out a genuine apology. And the tightness in Jisung’s chest would only dissipate once he was forgiven; he felt like, if Minho broke up with him here and now, he’d carry around this feeling forever. He was trembling slightly as he sat on the edge of the mattress, though Minho barely looked up until Jisung spoke.

“I’m so sorry I ate your donut. I really didn’t realize you were saving that one for yourself.”

“You  _ know _ the chocolate-filled, chocolate-glazed ones are my favorite! We’ve been together for  _ three years!” _ Minho paused his game, and all but threw the Switch onto the bed beside them; Jisung could see his pulse fluttering in his temple. “You  _ always _ eat food that I was saving for myself! Also, you  _ always _ eat all the edge pieces when I make brownies, which you know are  _ my favorite, _ and the last time you finished a package of my Oreos you tried to replace them with  _ Chips Ahoy. _ Everyone knows that Chips Ahoy and Oreos are  _ not equivalent cookies!” _

Jisung winced. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Babe, look at me,  _ listen  _ to me—” He was left to watch helplessly as Minho blinked shiny tears into his eyes, but he only let it trip him up for a second: “I know I need to do better. And I’m  _ going  _ to. I know I’m an idiot, but—”

“Apologies are just apologies when you do this all the time! I already told you that! You’re the one person I’m supposed to be able to trust over anyone in the world, and I can’t even trust you with a  _ donut.” _ Still, despite the bitterness in his tone, Minho shifted himself to lean against Jisung, trembling with emotion and tucking his head against the younger’s shoulder. “I’m heartbroken, Jisung. Do you realize that?  _ Heartbroken.” _

“That’s why I’m going to make it up to you, love. I’m going to prove that you mean so much more to me than any chocolate-filled, chocolate-glazed donut. I’d give up donuts for the rest of my life if it meant being able to spend my life with you.” Jisung pressed a kiss to Minho’s hair, and though he tensed, he allowed it. This, of course, was the perfect time for Jisung to whisper: “I brought ice cream home. It’s in the freezer.”

Minho quivered again, and this time it had nothing to do with his tears. “What kind?”

_ “Moose tracks.” _

Minho pulled back, round eyes glimmering. He was so much prettier when he was happy— his entire  _ face _ glowed with it. It socked Jisung like a punch in the gut, all over again:  _ I want to spend forever with this man. _

“Jisung, I think that’s the most romantic thing that anybody has ever said to me. Next you’ll tell me that you’re going to spoonfeed it to me!” The smile that slipped onto Minho’s face turned Jisung’s heart to absolute mush, and gave him the confidence to hook a finger under Minho’s chin and tilt his head up for a kiss.

“Anything for you, love. Anything to see you happy.” Before Jisung could speak anymore, the mattress shook lightly with the weight of the cat jumping up to join them, and Minho cuddled up even closer as he reached across Jisung to stroke her head.

Minho gave a long pause before speaking, taking a moment to enjoy the peace, the security, the slow circles that Jisung was rubbing into his back. “It’s going to take a lot of spoiling, you know. Show me that you’re ready to change.” He sniffled once more, pulling himself together, and kissing Jisung’s cheek softly. “You’ll be forgiven once you feed me ice cream in bed. That is my decree.”

“You’re  _ already  _ spoiled.”

“I deserve it! Besides, I can never resist sweet things.” Minho pouted, nuzzling against Jisung’s neck— and as if to emphasize his point, he gave a small but sharp nip to the little bit of clavicle that Jisung’s shirt left revealed. “Hence, you. You know, on second thought, it might be fun to smother you with melted ice cream and lick you clean…”

And just like that, like a wisp of candy floss dissolving so fast on the tongue— the fight was forgotten. Minho was good at that, the perfect mix of bitter and sweet, intoxicating enough to keep Jisung coming back every time.


End file.
